


Something Other Than Remaining

by Synnerxx



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Collars, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sleepy Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-05
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synnerxx/pseuds/Synnerxx
Summary: Tig usually has an iron grip on his control. He has to. He's the Sergeant-At-Arms after all. Sometimes though, he needs to give up that control to someone else and let them be his Master for a while. Someone he trusts, cares for, and loves. Clay and Gemma did this for him, but now he wants Chibs. Chibs has never expressed any interest in a relationship with a man, much less this kind of relationship. Clay makes him the offer and he finds he can't refuse it. Who else can say they can bring Tig down from his rages and he trusts enough to do this for him? Not many. He finds himself navigating the unfamiliar waters of a steady relationship and being who Tig needs with just Tig and he isn't one to open up and share all his feeling and tell Chibs what he needs from him. Will this work out for them or will Chibs call it quits on Tig?





	Something Other Than Remaining

**Author's Note:**

> art is [here](http://kink-bigbang.livejournal.com/68570.html).

It starts with Kyle and the tattoo. It's not often that Tig has to dole out punishment against other club members, even if he is the Sergeant-At-Arms. In fact, he can count on one hand the number of times he's had to carry out whatever punishment Clay decided on against a club member and it had never been someone in SAMCRO before. Usually it's someone who had wronged the club, an outsider. Someone easily taken care of. It makes Tig sick at how easy it is to hurt Kyle, listening to his screams of agony and feeling nothing. Smelling his burning flesh and everything sort of just shuts down on him, leaving nothing behind as he burns the tattoo away.

After it's over, he walks away, ignoring Clay and Jax calling his name and heads home for the night, unable to process what just happened. He drinks half a bottle of whiskey and smokes an entire pack of cigarettes that night before laying down in bed and staring up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck is wrong with him. He feels nothing over what he did to Kyle. No regret, no guilt, not even the expected anger that Kyle hadn't gotten the tattoo blacked out when he had the chance to do so. There's not even a glint of satisfaction that comes from a job well done and getting Clay's approval once more.

There's just nothing, a big, empty, numb space where all these feelings are be and Tig doesn't understand it. He's never been one to hide what he's feeling unless he had to for the situation, but here in bed, there's nothing and no one to hide from and he should feel something, but there's just nothing. He can't work up the energy to care about it right now. Maybe in the morning.

Sleep never finds him that night and he drags himself out of bed with a killer headache and pops three Advil and goes to work, ignoring everyone and working on the engine of a bike brought in yesterday. He glances up as Chibs finally returns from his trip up North, but doesn't bother to greet him as he heads for the clubhouse. He doesn't want a lot of human interaction today and the others have gotten that message loud and clear after several attempts to start a conversation with him ended up with a wrench being thrown at Juice's head. 

The sound of boots on the concrete alert him to Chibs' presence as he walks into the garage. “Not gonna welcome me home, brother?” 

Tig can hear the smirk in Chibs' voice and he grits his teeth against the rush of anger that floods his veins. “Welcome home.”

Chibs chuckles, moving closer. “What? You haven't missed me?”

Tig knows it's just the usual teasing that he and Chibs do sometimes and so this amount of anger directed at the Scotsman is uncalled for because he really hasn't done anything wrong, but Tig can't help it. He slams the wrench down on the tool bench and storms into the office, slamming the door behind, not bothering to look at Chibs' expression of surprised confusion as he stares after him.

A moment later, the door opens and Chibs is there, shutting it again. “You wanna tell me what the fuck that was about, Tig?”

“Not really.” Tig drops into the chair and scrubs a hand down his face.

“Do it anyway.” Chibs' tone leaves no room for argument.

“Why should I? You're not my goddamn mother or my Old Lady, Chibs, and I sure as fuck ain't your fuckin' bitch, so I don't have to tell you anything.” Tig snaps, fury burning through him.

Where was all this anger yesterday when it should have been there for what Kyle had done? Why is it just now appearing and why is it making him lash out at Chibs when the other man hasn't done anything to deserve it?

“The fuck has gotten into you? Someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?” Chibs asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“I don't know, man. Bad shit went down yesterday.” Tig runs his hands through his hair, tugging lightly at the curls, trying to bring himself under control.

Chibs watches him carefully, paying attention to him and his actions. “Yeah, Jax told me what went down with Kyle.”

“Yeah, asshole thought we wouldn't find out about the tatt.” Tig fumbles in his work shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Chibs, who takes it and lights it with his own lighter.

“Heard you took care of that though.” Chibs exhales a cloud of smoke.

“Of course I did. The fuck do you think I do in the club?” Tig glares at Chibs.

“Peace, brother. I meant nothing by the comment.” Chibs arches an eyebrow.

Tig huffs a sigh and puffs almost violently on the cigarette. “Whatever.”

“Something botherin' you, Tig?” Chibs cocks his head.

“No.” Tig says sharply.

“I think there is. Talk to me, Tigger.” Chibs presses, inhaling on his cigarette.

“I said there's nothing wrong.” Tig snaps, putting his own cigarette out in the ashtray on the desk.

“Alright.” Chibs agrees easily, knowing when to push and when to back off. 

He moves out of Tig's way when he pushes past him and heads back into the garage. He watches Tig for a moment, noting the sharp, angry gestures he makes as he works on the bike before him.

He shakes his head and goes back into the clubhouse, heading for the bar where HalfSack pours him a shot.

Clay sits down next to him. “How is he?”

“He's Tig. Wouldn't tell me anything, but there is something wrong, that much I can tell.” Chibs downs the shot and HalfSack pours him another one.

Clay sighs. “I really don't need him throwing a goddamn fit, not now.”

“What do you want me to do?” Chibs asks, exchanging his shot glass for a beer bottle.

“Keep him under control for now. The last thing we need is Tig out of control. That's not good for anyone.” Clay sighs and pushes himself off of the bar stool and slaps Chibs on the back.

“How the fuck am I control Tig?” Chibs groans, turning to face the bar.

“Is that even possible?” HalfSack leans against the bartop. 

“No. It's Tig.” Chibs glares down at his beer.

“What about Tig?” Jax slides into the seat next to Chibs.

HalfSack passes him a beer and Jax nods his thanks.

“Clay wants me to keep him under control for the foreseeable future until he snaps out of whatever mood he's in because Clay doesn't want him throwing a fit or whatever.” Chibs explains, swallowing the last of his beer.

“How do you even go about that?” Jax arches an eyebrow.

“You tell me and we'll both know, Jacky-Boy.” Chibs gets up and heads back out to the garage where he hopes Tig still is.

“Good luck, man.” Jax laughs.

Chibs wordlessly flips him off and lets the door slam behind him as he walks out.

Tig is still in the garage, still working on the bike engine he was working on earlier, but now he seems calmer, his movements less frantic. 

“You ready to play nice now?” Chibs asks, a slight edge to his voice.

“Fuck off, Chibs. I'm not in the mood.” Tig says, but his voice lacks the heat of anger. He just sounds tired now.

“You're never in the mood for anything. Clay seems to think you need to be controlled, that you're gonna throw some time of fit. Why does he think that?” Chibs asks causally.

Tig goes very still in response. Finally he lifts his head and looks at Chibs. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. Why?” Chibs moves closer to Tig.

“Good.” Tig says roughly, going back to work on the engine.

“He told me to be the one that keeps you under control. What did he mean by that, Tig?” Chibs reaches out and touches Tig's shoulder.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I'll talk to Clay about it.” Tig shrugs Chibs' hand off of him.

“Is it something that's going to affect the club, Tig?” Chibs asks, trying to catch Tig's eye.

“No. It never has before.” Tig answers and then winces, realising what he said.

“'Never has before'? What are you talking about? Why the secrecy?” Chibs plucks the tool out of Tig's hand and sets it down next to the bike.

Tig sighs and looks down at the tools spread out before him. “It's got nothing to do with the club or you, so don't worry about it.” 

“If Clay thinks I should be the one to do whatever needs to be done, I think you need to tell me or I'll just go ask him.” Chibs snaps, getting in Tig's personal space.

Tig clenches his teeth so hard that, for a minute, Chibs thinks he's going to break his jaw before exhaling slowly, working to calm himself down. “It's nothing.”

He turns around abruptly and nearly walks smack into Clay as he tries to get out of the garage.

“It's not nothing.” Clay says to Tig, but his eyes are on Chibs.

“We can't tell him.” Tig protests, but Clay glances sharply at him and he falls silent.

Chibs frowns, noticing that something is different about the way they're interacting. Tig's more submissive to Clay that usual and there's an aura of power and dominance around Clay that's stronger than before. 

“Down.” Clay tells Tig and Chibs watches in fascination as Tig drops to his knees at Clay's feet, head bowed.

Clay walks around the garage, pulling the sliding doors shut and closing the office door. “You see, Chibs, Tig here needs someone to control him, someone to tell him what to do when he needs it or he gets out of control and things get messy when that happens.” 

Chibs glances down at Tig, but he hasn't moved from his kneeling position. “What does this have to do with me?”

“I used to be all Tig needed, able to control him and give him what he needs, but lately, someone else has caught his eye. You.” Clay walks back over to Tig and rests his hand on his head.

“Me? And what do you want me to do with him?” Chibs asks, eyes darting between Clay and Tig.

“Simple. Be his Master.” Clay says, tugging lightly at Tig's hair, making him look up at Clay.

“That's what you want, right Tigger?” Clay asks Tig.

Tig nods hesitantly, as if he's unsure of the right answer. 

Clay smirks down at him. “Of course you do.” He pats Tig's head once.

“Be his Master? What the fuck are you talking about, Clay?” Chibs asks, eyes fixed on Tig.

“See how obedient he is? He'll do whatever you tell him. Anything. Yours to control and do whatever you want. You're familiar with Dominant and submissive relationships, yes?” Clay asks, one hand still resting on Tig's head, talking about it all so openly, as if Tig isn't even in the room, much less kneeling at Clay's feet.

“Yeah, but you can't be serious. Are you telling me that you and Tig have had this relationship and no one knew?” Chibs frowns, gesturing between the two of them.

“Well, Gemma knows. It was her idea actually.” Clay shrugs.

“Her idea? Is it sexual between you two?” Chibs asks, slightly overwhelmed with all the information he's getting.

“Yes.” Clay answers.

“So you're telling me that you want me to be his Master?” Chibs feels a headache coming on.

“If you want to.” Clay nods.

“Why can't you do it?” Chibs massages his temples.

“I can and will if you don't want to, but Tig here wants you and I think he's earned it for now.” Clay strokes Tig's hair.

“So I'm some sort of prize or something?” Chibs says, the edge creeping back into his voice.

“Now you're over thinking things. Either you want to do this or you don't.” Clay says, voice hard and final.

“Let me think about it.” Chibs looks up at Clay.

“Fine, but the offer expires in twenty four hours, so think fast.” Clay says, fingers curling in Tig's hair and pulling upward. Tig rises to his feet gracefully. He follows Clay out of the garage, slightly behind him. He glances back at Chibs, but Chibs can't read the look in his eyes.

Chibs sags down onto the tool bench, sitting on the edge. What the hell did he just get himself into with this? 

He can't deny that the idea doesn't excite him. To control someone like Tig who always seems so wild and uncontrollable is exciting in and of itself. Chibs knows there's got to be a level of consent between them and wonders how Tig and Clay worked it out. Did they sit down and discuss all the boundaries up front? Did they learn as they went along? 

The fact that he is giving this serious thought scares him a bit. What he knows about Dominate and submissive relationships isn't much. He knows though that he wants to try it out. He wants Tig at his feet, kneeling and awaiting his instructions, like he was with Clay. The intensity of the need for that sends lust pooling warm and deep in his belly and his cock is already half hard from the thoughts circling around in his brain. He shakes his head to clear it, ignoring the heat in his veins and looks around the darkened garage. He can't honestly be thinking of taking something like this on, can he? Who is he to think he could handle someone like Tig? 

Clay is the one that has the firm grasp around everyone and everything, so why should Chibs take this sort of burden on himself since it seems that Tig needs more than just a sexual aspect to the relationship anyway. He rubs his hands down his face and tries to put it out of his mind. He's got work to do.

~*~

 

“Clay?” Tig asks hesitantly. He isn't sure if he's address Clay by 'Master' right now, but since they're heading back to the clubhouse, he decides not to.

“What?” Clay grunts, not pleased that Chibs had decided to wait instead of giving him the answer he wanted.

“Why are you doing this?” Tig reaches out and touches Clay's elbow, stopping him from going into the clubhouse.

“Because Gemma thinks it'll be good for the two of you.” Clay sighs.

“What do you think?” Tig looks up at Clay.

Clay glances around the lot and, seeing no one watching them, wraps his hand around the back of Tig's head and pulls him close so their foreheads are resting against each other. “If it were up to me, you'd stay mine because I'm not entirely sure I trust anyone else to give you what you need besides me and Gemma, but Gemma's got it in her head that Chibs can, so we'll see.”

Tig nods and Clay lets him go, pulling away and sliding his hand down to the middle of Tig's back and pushing him lightly in the direction of the door. “That doesn't mean we won't have some fun later. Gemma has something planned for tonight and she wants you over at nine.” 

Tig nods, swallowing harshly against the excitement that builds up, the rush of pleasure in his veins as he looks forward to seeing Gemma tonight and wondering what she has planned for him.

~*~

 

Chibs is just heading out of the garage and walking towards the clubhouse when he spots Clay and Tig. Clay reaches out and pulls Tig close to him, their foreheads resting against each others' and talking quietly. Clay pulls back and glances up at him and, at first Chibs thought he was going to be mad that Chibs saw the clearly intimate moment between him and Tig, but he turns back to Tig and finishes the conversation, sliding his hand down Tig's back rather possessively and murmuring in his ear.

Chibs feels an unexpected rush of jealously aimed at Clay. He bites down on his bottom lip and watches them go into the clubhouse. He waits a few minutes, getting himself under control before following them.

He can feel the weight of Tig's eyes on him as soon as he steps inside, but he ignores it and heads for the pool table where Jax and Opie are playing and joins Opie in teasing Jax about his skills. Jax glares playfully and tosses his handful of peanuts at the both of them before making his shot. Chibs glances back at the bar to find Tig chatting with Happy, smirks on both of their faces and suddenly he's made his decision.

His eyes meet Clay's across the room and he nods once, knowing that Clay will understand what he means. Clay pauses a beat then nods back, lighting a cigar and puffing on it. He looks slightly irritated, but Chibs really doesn't care. Tig will be his now and that's all he cares about.

~*~

 

Clay finishes his cigar and puts it out in the ashtray in front of him, excusing himself from Bobby. Tig watches him as he walks across the room and out the door, turning to Bobby.

“Where's he goin'?” Tig asks, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

“Dunno.” Bobby shrugs, not too concerned.

Tig gives him a glare and looks back at the door, wondering if he should follow. He doesn't hear the sound of a motorcycle taking off, so Clay isn't leaving, but still, there's no telling when he might leave. It's best to be prepared.

Before he can get up, Clay is walking back into the clubhouse and stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He doesn't look happy so whatever the phone call was about couldn’t have been good, but Tig is pretty good at reading Clay's moods and this one says he's annoyed with Gemma and not club business gone bad, so he relaxes back onto his bar stool and takes a swig of the beer in his hand.

Happy slaps his knee then. “Such a good little attack dog, you are.”

Tig flips him off and tells him to suck his dick which is his standard response to anything Happy says and trades his beer for a shot of whiskey. He's anxious and excited and nervous all at once for tonight and whatever Gemma has planned. He loves it when she plans their encounters. It's always something new and he always discovers a new kink or two about himself, Gemma, or Clay that he didn't know about.

Briefly, he wonders if Chibs will be there, but he thinks not. After all, he hasn't given Clay his answer about what he wants to do with the offer. His eyes find the other man as he sits with Juice and Kozik, teasing Jax and Opie playfully about their pool skill and laughing. He studies the man, trying to pinpoint what about him that makes him so irresistible to Tig. 

The answers aren't forth coming and all Tig really knows is that he does indeed want Chibs on a more primal level, just needs him in ways that he can't fully explain, not even to himself. He takes another shot of whiskey and relishes in the burn as it slides down his throat and into his stomach. That will be his last one as he doesn't want to get drunk today. He needs to be sober to enjoy what Clay and Gemma have planned for tonight.

If he were to ruin Gemma's night by showing up drunk, well, Clay wouldn't be pleased and there would be a punishment, which as exciting as that sounds, isn't really an experience he'd like to repeat. The last time he had gotten a punishment from Clay, he couldn't sit for a week and riding had been damn near impossible. Clay made him grin and bear it, sending him out on as many runs as he could for whatever reason, knowing how sore Tig was. It had been Tig's fault and he had learned his lesson though, however painfully it was taught. Needless to say, he never repeated that particular mistake again.

He wonders what kind of punishments Chibs would dole out. Not that he planned on getting any, but who knew? He wonders if it will be sexual between them. These types of relationships often are, but maybe Chibs is different, maybe he won't want that. Hell, maybe he won't want it at all. The lifestyle isn't for everyone, after all. 

He swallows hard and tries to ignore the lust burning through his veins at the thought of being spread out underneath Chibs, being told exactly what to do and how to do, Chibs' voice thick with need and want for him, accent heavier than usual with arousal. He pushes those thoughts out of his head. It does him no good to think about that here in the clubhouse in front of everyone. Not to mention that that may not even happen anyway.

Chibs could always say no. In fact, he probably will. Tig has never seen any indication that Chibs would be open for a relationship with another man, much less one like this. Tig wants him so much, it's a physical sensation, pulsing low and heavy in the pit of his stomach. He licks his dry lips and tries to focus on the conversation swirling around him, but nothing sticks in his mind. 

He pretends to pay attention, laughing and nodding in what he hopes are the right places, but he can't really be bothered to move the conversation along himself. No one questions him on his odd behavior anyway. The others are well on their way to being drunk. A party is already brewing, sweetbutts arriving a bit early, but the guys need to put the horror of yesterday's actions behind them. He doesn't blame them. He's nearly over it, but sometimes, when he closes his eyes, flashes of the charred skin appear. He pushes them out of his mind too.

He sips slowly at his beer, half paying attention to HalfSack and Happy's conversation next to him when a sweetbutt heads his way and wraps her arms around his neck, pouting her lips up at him.

“What's the matter, hun?” She coos.

“Nothing, doll. Been a long day.” Tig grins down at her, shifting slightly in her hold. The sickly sweet smell of her is overpowering and he almost wants to gag at it.

“Let me make it better for you. Give you a happy ending to this long day of yours.” Her pout turns into what she probably thinks is a sexy smirk and she tugs on his shirt underneath his cut.

His eyes immediately head for Clay, looking to see what he thinks of this, if he can have permission. Clay is watching him like he expected, but instead of telling him yes or no like he usually does, he jerks his head in Chibs' direction. Tig frowns at Clay, confused, but looks over at Chibs.

Chibs is glaring so intensely at the woman in Tig's arms that Tig nearly flinches himself. He wonders how the woman doesn't feel the burn of that glare on her skin or, if she does, how she's managing to ignore it. Chibs' eyes glance up and meet his and he reads the question there and gives a sharp jerk of his head. No. 

Tig lowers his eyes briefly, acknowledging Chibs' answer, and turns his attentions back to the woman. “Sorry, doll. Got other plans for the night.” 

She pouts up at him again. “Come on, sugar. You sure you won't let me show you a good time?” 

He shrugs her hands off of him. “I'm sure. Some other time.” 

She sighs, but nods, tottering away on her too high heels to find someone else to sink her teeth into. He tugs at the hem of his shirt, straightening it back out from where she had curled it up in her hands.

He glances around the clubhouse, wondering if anyone noticed that little exchange between him, Clay, and Chibs, but everyone else is too busy with sweetbutts of their own to pay him much attention anyway. Not even Happy, who's right beside him, seems to have noticed, though that's not surprising as he's attached at the lips to some other woman himself.

Tig looks back over to Chibs to find him staring at him, dark eyes measuring Tig in a way that makes him shudder with desire. He takes another drink of his beer to calm his lust a bit. He looks away from Chibs, feeling his eyes still on him, watching his every move. It excites him even more to know that Chibs is watching him, studying him, wanting him. 

He looks back over at Clay to see if he caught what went on between him and Chibs, though he knows he has. Clay never misses anything that goes on his club, not something like this, something that could and will change the dynamics here for them. Clay is smirking at him from behind a cloud of smoke. Tig takes it as a good sign and finishes off his beer, setting the bottle down on the bartop and heading outside for a smoke and a quick breath of fresh air to get himself under better control.

Tig is leaning against the side of the clubhouse, eyes closed, exhaling a breath of smoke when he becomes aware that someone is standing before him. He opens his eyes to find Chibs looking at him, head cocked to the side as if he's trying to solve a particularly hard puzzle. Tig grins lazily at him and holds out his cigarette. 

“Want a smoke?” He asks, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette.

Chibs takes it from him and inhales the smoke, letting it out slowly. “Why me? Why now?” 

Tig thinks about playing dumb and asking 'Why what?', but he catches the look in Chibs' eyes and decides not to. It's not something he's spared a whole lot of thought on because he was sure that he would never get it anyway. Either Clay would refuse to hand him over or Chibs wouldn't want this type of relationship or just plain wouldn't want him. He never allowed himself anything other than fantasies of this, so there wasn't a lot of justification for why he wanted Chibs. He just did and he wasn't in the habit of explaining all his wants and needs to people. Not even Clay made him do that.

“I don't know.” He says finally, reaching out to take the cigarette back from Chibs.

“You've gotta know.” Chibs counters mildly.

“I don't usually have to explain why I want something. Most of the time, I can just take it.” Tig shrugs, leaning back against the warm bricks of the clubhouse and tilting his head up, looking at the night sky.

Chibs nods, accepting that answer. “So how long as this thing with you and Clay been goin' on?” 

“A few years.” Tig shrugs again.

“And no one besides Gemma knows?” Chibs arches an eyebrow at him.

“Since it was her idea in the first place, of course she had to know. And no. No one else knows or, if they do, they never said anything about it.” Tig drops the cigarette to the ground and steps on it.

“Wanna tell me how it happened?” Chibs moves to lean beside Tig instead of standing in front of him.

“Not really. I can't tell you everything without permission anyway, so what would be the point?” Tig says with a sigh.

“How much do they control?” Chibs asks, looking curious.

“What do you mean?” Tig glances over at Chibs.

“Of your life, your actions. How much do they control?” Chibs repeats.

“It's hard to explain.” Tig says, avoiding the question slightly.

“I'm gonna need to know if I'm going to do this.” Chibs faces Tig.

“That'll be for you and I to decide on our own.” Tig says coolly. 

“Am I ever gonna get an answer out of you?” Chibs smirks.

“Ask me a question that I can answer then.” Tig rolls his eyes at Chibs.

Chibs moves then, pinning Tig against the side of the clubhouse and pressing a knee up between his thighs, hands holding Tig's wrists firmly against the bricks. He kisses Tig fiercely, tongue sliding into his mouth, forceful and insistent. Tig gives a startled moan, but sags back against the wall, grinding down onto Chibs' knee. He's been half hard all night and the friction is wonderful. 

Chibs pulls back, teeth nipping hard enough at Tig's bottom lip that he draws blood. He licks it away and hisses into Tig's ear, “Do you like this?”

Tig moans. “Fuck yeah.” 

Chibs grins wickedly and trails his mouth down to Tig's neck, biting and sucking, welling up a hickey, determined to mark Tig as his now, even though he isn't. Not quite yet. He doesn't care. He just wants his mark on Tig. Tig moans and grinds harder against Chibs' knee. He's so turned on right now. He pushes against Chibs' hold on his hands, but Chibs keeps them firmly pinned to the wall. There's sure to be bruises on them tomorrow.

Satisfied with the hickey that's already appearing on Tig's neck, Chibs licks it one last time before moving back up to Tig's mouth and sucking his bottom lip in his mouth. He bites down on it, bringing more blood to the surface and sucking it away. Tig's fingers scrabble uselessly against the wall, searching for something to hold onto. Chibs allows him to turn his hands over and he laces their fingers together, grunting in surprise when Tig digs his nails into the back of Chibs' hands.

Tig flicks his tongue out, pressing against Chibs' upper lip, licking a few times. Chibs lets Tig's lip go and presses their mouths together again, body flush against Tig's so they're standing chest to chest, though Chibs still has his knee wedged between Tig's thighs, teasing him.

The door to the clubhouse slams open, music and laughter spilling out into the night air and they spring apart, each adjusting their clothing in an attempt to look halfway decent and not like they were about to fuck against the wall. They wait a beat and then the door shuts again, blocking out the sound. 

They exchange looks and then burst into laughter at their own absurdity. Tig doubles over and rests his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He straightens up and Chibs shoves him back against the wall again, grinding their hips together roughly. Tig gasps, head thumping back to hit the wall. Chibs bites at his neck again, right below his ear. Tig moans and arches his hips into Chibs', making him groan against Tig's neck. 

“We can't get caught.” Tig pushes lightly at Chibs' chest.

Chibs grins into Tig's neck, ignoring Tig's attempts to put space between them. “We won't, Tigger.”

His hands slide down Tig's hips and around to the front of Tig's jeans. He can feel the hard bulge of Tig's erection straining against his zipper. He gropes him and Tig gives a strangled yelp, thrusting into Chibs' hand. Chibs smirks at the reaction that gets him and Tig sneers at him. Chibs isn't his Master yet, so he feels the need to wipe that smug look off of his face. 

He twists them around so Chibs is the one pinned to the wall and Tig is the one smirking at him. Chibs looks surprised that Tig would turn the tables like this. Tig kisses him hard, teeth clashing briefly before he pulls away. He palms the front of Chibs' jeans. 

“This for me?” He asks, arching an eyebrow at Chibs.

“Could be.” Chibs smirks.

“Hmm, well, better take a look at what I'm working with here.” Tig drops to his knees in front of him and unfastens Chibs' jeans, pulling them down his thighs. 

He grins at the sight of Chibs' hard cock outlined in the black silk of his boxers. He leans forward and mouths at the head, dampening the silk and making Chibs moan throatily. He sucks lightly at the head, tongue flicking across the wet fabric. 

“Hurry up if you don't want to get caught.” Chibs pulls at Tig's hair, making him smirk around his mouthful.

He pulls off of Chibs' cock. “Pushy.”

Chibs just yanks on his hair again, impatient and horny as hell. Tig slides his boxers down to his knees with his jeans. He licks his palm and strokes Chibs a few times before taking him into his mouth. He can tell by the way Chibs thrusts hard into his mouth that he's already pretty close and it's not going to take much to make him come. He relaxes his throat and takes Chibs all the way in as far as he can, hollowing out his cheeks and running his tongue up and down the shaft.

He slides back up until just the head is in his mouth and sucks hard, tongue mercilessly teasing the slit. Chibs is moaning, babbling mess above him, hands clenched in Tig's hair. The tight hold only encourages Tig. He likes the sting of having his hair pulled and it's only fueling his own lust. He presses one hand against the front of his pants, moaning around Chibs' cock, the vibration traveling up into Chibs. 

Chibs moans loudly, thrusting all the way into Tig's mouth, forcing him to deep throat him, and stills, hips snapping forward as he comes hard and fast, spilling himself in Tig's mouth. Tig swallows around Chibs, throat working to get it all. He lets Chibs slide out of his mouth, standing up and kissing Chibs roughly, letting him taste himself on Tig's tongue. He reaches down and pulls Chibs' jeans and boxers up, tucking him away and fastening his jeans.

Tig grunts in surprises as Chibs spins them around again, pinning Tig against the wall. He grins, nuzzling against Tig's neck, lapping at the hickey he left. “Your turn.”

He shoves Tig's pants down around his thighs and wraps his hand around Tig's cock. He smears the precome down the shaft, slicking his way as he strokes him fast and loose, messy. It doesn't take long before Tig is clinging to Chibs' shoulders, his orgasm sweeping over him, leaving him shaking. 

Chibs holds his come covered hand up in front of Tig's face, a smirk and a challenge on his face. Tig curls his fingers around Chibs' wrist and pulls his hand closer, cleaning him off with his mouth and tongue, sucking each finger into his mouth. Chibs moans, watching with heavy-lidded eyes. Tig pulls off of his finger with a wet pop and smirks, licking his lips. He fixes his jeans and kisses Chibs again. 

They're just getting into the kiss when someone clears their throat loudly. They freeze, mouths still joined, eyes snapping open. Another throat clearing and they jump apart as if burned. Clay is leaning against the wall not far from them.

He smirks, cigar smoke curling from his lips. “Having fun, boys?”

“Clay, I...we...fuck.” Tig says eloquently.

“I can see that.” Clay's smirk never falters.

“How long you been standin' there?” Chibs asks, voice calm.

“Long enough.” Clay pushes off the wall and shrugs.

He turns and heads out into the lot of Teller-Morrow, calling over his shoulder, “Time to go meet with Gemma, Tig. Chibs, you come too.”

Tig and Chibs exchange looks, but follow Clay out to their bikes. Clay leads them to his house where Gemma is waiting for them.

She greets Clay at the door with a kiss. She hugs both Tig and Chibs, leading them into the kitchen where she hands them all beers. “Sit. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Chibs asks, looking between Clay and Gemma warily. 

“Don't look so suspicious. This is going to end up in your favor, after all.” Gemma chides him.

“What are you talking about?” Chibs drops down into a chair, beer cupped loosely between his hands on the table.

Tig sits down beside him, frowning lightly. He knows this has something to do with their complicated relationship, but he's not exactly sure what's going to happen here and that sets him on edge. He's not used to not knowing.

“Nice hickey, Tigger.” Gemma smirks at him, tapping the side of her neck.

He reaches up and touches it, fingers prodding the bruise and winces. Yeah, that's going to be noticeable tomorrow.

Chibs glances over at it and smirks, satisfied with his work. He takes a swig of his beer and waits for Gemma to continue.

“Well, don't you look smug, Chibs? I guess that's your handiwork?” Gemma laughs, gesturing at Tig's neck.

Chibs looks back over at the hickey, lightly grazing his fingertips over it, making Tig shiver involuntarily. “Aye.”

“Nice work then.” Gemma tips her beer bottle at him, a smirk on her face. He returns the gesture and takes another drink.

“Let's get down to it then.” Clay says, shooting Gemma a look. He doesn't like to be kept waiting and they have a lot to talk about.

“Get down to what?” Tig asks, narrowing his eyes and looking between Gemma and Clay.

“The discussion of letting Chibs take over as your Master.” Gemma says, looking over at Clay.

“He hasn't even said he wants to. Aren't you two jumping the gun a bit?” Tig protests mildly, picking at the label on his beer bottle absently.

“Actually, he did and he does.” Clay looks at Chibs who nods.

“Ah, I see.” Tig nods, eyes on his bottle. He continues picking at the label.

“Tig needs control in his life. He has a need to always be in control of the situation. That's what makes him a great Sergeant-At-Arms. He's got an iron grip that isn't easily loosened. However, he needs to be able to let go of his control and give it up to someone else in order to stay balanced. That's where Clay and me come in.” Gemma explains.

Tig says nothing. His eyes are fixed on his beer bottle and there's a little pile of bits of the label next to it. He keeps picking at it, looking for all the world that he's not listening to the conversation around him. Chibs looks over at him and knows he's listening intently. The tightness at the edge of his eyes and mouth give him away.

“When it's needed, I control Tig. Completely. Everything I say to do, he does. No questions asks, no arguing about it.” Clay takes up the explanation.

“Why you two?” Chibs asks, looking at Clay curiously.

“Because we were the only ones he trusted enough to give up his control to.” Clay says.

“Now that you have it, you had better never break it.” Gemma says, an unspoken threat in her eyes should Chibs ever break the trust that Tig has in him.

“I won't.” Chibs promises solemnly, looking at Tig, speaking more to him than Gemma. 

Tig nods, but he doesn't look at Chibs. The pile of pickings grows bigger, the label becoming smaller on his bottle.

“Now there are a few rules in place that need to stay there.” Clay says firmly.

Chibs nods, glancing once more at Tig, who continues to pick away.

“One is that no one in the club ever finds out about Tig and me and Gemma. It's up to you two whether you let them know about you and him, but not us. Two, when on club business, Tig is not yours. He has the control and makes the judgment calls he needs to to get his job done. Three, you have to work together or this relationship doesn't work.” Clay emphasis each point by jabbing his finger down on the table top.

“Aye.” Chibs nods, finishing off his beer.

“Well, that's all for tonight, I guess.” Gemma stands and collects the beer bottles from the guys and throws them into the garbage. She rolls her eyes at the little pile that Tig has made of his label and cleans it up as well. 

“I'll see you tomorrow then.” Clay walks them to the door and hugs them both, holding onto Tig a little longer and pressing a kiss onto the side of his neck.

Chibs and Tig head out to their bikes and Tig sits on his for a moment, staring down at his helmet. Chibs watches him for a moment. “You okay with all of this, Tig?”

“Yeah.” Tig says roughly, putting on his helmet. 

Chibs looks at him harder for a moment and then nods. “Going back to the clubhouse?”

“No, we're going to my place.” Tig says, starting his bike and pulling away from the house. He takes off down the street, pushing the speed limit and Chibs follows.

He's only been in Tig's apartment a handful of times before. It's surprisingly clean. Chibs had expected alcohol bottles and the like to be scattered around the place, but it's tidy. It smells like leather and the faint scent of Tig's cologne lingers in the air.

Tig tosses his keys onto the coffee table, shrugging his cut off and draping it along the back of the armchair. He kicks off his boots once they reach the bedroom and pushes them with his foot under the edge of the bed. 

He turns to Chibs and pulls him into a kiss. Chibs grunts in surprise, not expecting it, but he lets himself sink into it, opening his mouth under Tig's ministrations. Tig licks his way into Chibs' mouth, flicking across his top teeth and tickling the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. Chibs moans, curling his hands around Tig's hips and dragging him closer.

Tig grinds their hips together, rubbing against Chibs in an effort to distract him. It's working if Chibs' moans and the growing erection pressing against the inside of Tig's thigh are any indication. Tig tangles his fingers in Chibs' hair, pulling gently, angling his head for better access to his mouth. Chibs groans and tightens his grip on Tig.

Tig breaks the kiss with a smirk. Chibs can't resist a sharp nip to Tig's bottom lip before he's completely pulled away and Tig's smirk widens, tongue playing against his swollen lip. “Want more?” 

Chibs growls and pushes him down on the bed, straddling him as soon as he lands, making him laugh breathlessly. Their mouths meet again and Tig runs his hands up under Chibs' cut, smoothing along the fabric of his shirt.

“Tig, we need to talk.” Chibs pants, breaking the kiss.

“Talk later, fuck now.” Tig groans, unbuttoning Chibs' shirt. His hands slip inside, running over the bared skin, fingers finding Chibs' nipples and pinching them.

Chibs gasps, rolling his hips down into Tig. “I really think we should talk first.”

“No, you don't.” Tig manages to get a hand in between them and grabs Chibs' cock through his jeans. 

Chibs moans, thrusting into Tig's hands, who smirks at him. “See? Told you.”

Chibs grunts, pinning Tig's hands above his head. “Stop. We need to talk.”

Tig stares up at him, expression suddenly shuttered, face smoothing out, going blank. “I said no.”

Chibs glares down at him. “Fine. Then this is done.” 

He gets up off of Tig, straightening his clothes. Tig props himself up on his elbows and watches him. He doesn't say anything. Chibs gives him one last look before walking out of his bedroom. A few moments later, Tig hears the front door close. He drops back down onto the bed, grumbling to himself. He listens to the sound of Chibs' motorcycle driving off until it fades in the distance. 

He sneers up at the ceiling. “I don't need him anyway.” 

He stands up, strips, and heads for the shower. He turns it as hot as he can bear it and just stands under the spray, letting the heat soak into his very bones. Why did everything have to be so complicated with him? He doesn't want to lose Chibs. He probably should have talked to him tonight, but he really couldn't. He had had enough of having pieces of him examined at Clay and Gemma's and all he wanted was some sex and then sleep.

He punches the wet tile of the shower wall and winces, cradling his hand to his chest. He flexes his hand gently. It's not broken, but it sure as hell hurts now. He grunts and gets out, drying off quickly and crawling into bed. He's way too sober for this shit, but he just wants some sleep now.

Sleep doesn't come easily or fast, of course, but it does come eventually and pull him under into the welcome darkness.

~*~

 

Chibs heads back to the clubhouse, pissed at Tig and pissed at himself. Tig for shutting down and pushing him out when he needed to be in and himself for pushing the issue Tig clearly didn't want to talk about just then. He parks his bike and stomps into the clubhouse. Juice is passed out on the pool table, arm around some sweetbutt. A few of the others had their bikes still out there, so he assumes they're back in their dorms.

He snatches up a bottle of whiskey and heads for his own dorm, slamming the door behind him. He kicks off his boots and drops down onto the bed, opening the whiskey and taking a few swallows. It burns going down his throat and he relishes in it. 

He finishes off half the bottle before sleep lays claim to him. He dreams of bright blue eyes and hands sliding on his skin and bite marks and bruises. 

~*~

 

The next day, things are tense between Tig and Chibs and they hardly speak. Clay corners Tig after Church that evening and nods towards Chibs. “What's going on with you two? You can't be fighting already.”

“Nothing. Don't worry about it.” Tig forces a grin that he knows Clay can see right through, but Clay doesn't call him on it, just nods and lets him go.

Chibs watches Tig and Clay talk for a moment, feeling a stab of jealousy. Tig is his now. Or he was. Now Chibs isn't sure after last night. Things have been tense and angry between them and they haven't said much to one another. Chibs watches Tig walk back to his dorm and gets up, following him, intent on figuring out where things stand between them.

He leans in the doorway, watching Tig. “Can we talk now?”

Tig turns, looking over his shoulder at him. He sighs. “If you want.”

Chibs walks into Tig's room and shuts the door behind him. “Do you still want this?” He gestures between himself and Tig.

Tig looks up at him, a frown on his face. “Do you?”

“I asked you, Tig. Just answer the question.” Chibs says, exasperated. 

“Yeah, I do.” Tig looks away from him for a moment, rubbing at the bruise on his knuckles.

“Good. So do I.” Chibs sits down next to him on the foot of the bed.

“How did you manage this?” Chibs asks, taking Tig's hand in his own, studying the red and purple bruising on his hand.

“Punched the wall.” Tig shrugs, pulling his hand away.

Chibs shakes his head at Tig. “One of these days you're going to break your hand.”

“Probably.” Tig grins.

Chibs smirks, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss, humming in satisfaction when Tig immediately starts kissing back instead of pulling away, like he first expected. After all, anyone could walk in on them, though it wasn't a huge chance. Everyone usually knocks before coming in to someone else's room anyway.

Tig moans into the kiss when Chibs sucks on his tongue, hands clenching in Chibs' cut. Chibs' other hand cups the side of his neck, fingers splayed over the hickey he left there yesterday, possessive. He presses down on it, making Tig moan again, the burst of pain mixing with the pleasure and sending sparks up his spine. 

Tig moves, shifting forward until he's straddling Chibs' lap, hands resting on his shoulders to keep his balance. Chibs' hands slide down his neck to his back to his ass, squeezing it as he holds him steady. Tig rocks his hips forward and Chibs moans in the back of his throat, pulling Tig even tighter against him.

Chibs breaks the kiss, pulling back slightly. “You know we still need to have that conversation, right?”

“We will. Later. Sex now.” Tig mumbles against Chibs' neck, licking a line from his neck to his ear where he nibbles lightly on the outer edge.

Chibs laughs, throaty and deep, smacking Tig's ass with one hand, making him moan. He smirks, feeling Tig's cock get even harder in his . “Like that, do ya?” 

“Mmm.” Tig moves down from Chibs' ear to his neck, sucking and licking, mapping out Chibs' sensitive spots. 

Chibs moans and grabs Tig's ass again, pressing him as close as he can. Tig pulls away from his neck and grinds down in his lap with a smirk. Chibs slides his hands up under the back of Tig's cut, pushing it off of his shoulders. Tig lets go of him briefly to shake it off of his arms, letting it fall behind him. He strips Chibs of his own cut, fingers tugging impatiently at the hem of the t-shirt Chibs is wearing.

Chibs pulls it off, throwing it on the floor behind Tig. Tig leans back and unbuttons his own shirt, Chibs hands sliding along every bit of bare skin that's revealed to him. His thumbs stroke across Tig's nipples and Tig gasps, rocking his hips forward into Chibs. 

 

Tig kisses Chibs hard and Chibs pinches his nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Tig digs his fingers into Chibs' shoulder, groaning into the kiss as pleasure fills his body, sending sparks up his spine. Chibs manages to flip them over on the bed, Tig underneath him now. 

He leans down and licks the hickey on the side of Tig's neck, drawing a whimper from him. He licks a trail from Tig's neck to his collarbone, drawing his teeth along the bone, making Tig shudder. He moves down lower, flicking his tongue against Tig's nipple, tracing circles around the hardened bud before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it, teeth rubbing against it.

Tig's fingers tangle in Chibs' hair, moaning and arching into Chibs' mouth. A sharp bite from Chibs makes him yelp. Chibs soothes the swollen bud with long, slow laps of his tongue, reducing Tig into an incoherent mess under him. Tig arches his hips up, rocking against Chibs' belly, desperate for some sort of friction against his aching cock. 

Chibs lets Tig's nipple go, straddling his hips. “You want more, Tigger?”

“I want you to stop fucking teasing me.” Tig glares up at Chibs, though the effect is somewhat ruined when his eyes are full of lust, dark blue and overly bright in the dim light of the room. 

Tig reaches up and twists Chibs' nipple between his fingers. “Fuck me already.”

Chibs grunts in pleasured pain and reaches for Tig's , undoing them. He slides off of Tig, standing and pulling Tig's off after he kicks off his boots. Chibs takes his off as well, crawling back up over Tig and kissing him again. 

“You forgot the boxers.” Tig points out, hooking his fingers in Chibs' waistband. 

“You are impatient tonight, aren't you?” Chibs smirks down at him.

“Hurry up, you fuck.” Tig jerks at Chibs' waistband.

“Oy, don't tear them. I like this pair.” Chibs protests, reaching down and pushing Tig's hands away from his boxers.

“Well, get out of them already, damn.” Tig snaps.

Chibs chuckles and wriggles out of his boxers, pulling Tig's off as well. They're skin to skin now and Tig gasps, pushing his hips up into Chibs', both of them moaning and rubbing together.

Tig pushes at Chibs' chest, making him move off of him for a moment. He leans over and digs through the drawer of his nightstand while Chibs cops a feel and pulls out the lube and a condom, dropping them on the bed beside them. He tugs Chibs back down on top of him, kissing him again. 

His hand curls around both of their cocks and strokes them loosely, slicking the way with their precome. Chibs groans into his mouth, tongue dipping in and out of Tig's mouth, teasing him. He pulls away.

“Now who's teasing?” He asks as Tig continues his maddeningly slow stroking.

Tig smirks up at him, swallowing his moans. “Don't know what you're talking about. At least I'm touching your dick.” 

Chibs picks up the lube and pours a generous amount into his palm, slicking up his fingers. He shifts off of Tig, letting Tig roll over and get on his hands and knees. Chibs presses a finger into him, groaning as the tight heat wraps around it. If that's what Tig feels like when he's got just a finger inside of him, he's going to love it when he's got his cock buried in him.

“More.” Tig demands, rocking backwards, fucking himself on Chibs' fingers.

Chibs adds another finger, scissoring them, stretching Tig out. Tig moans and his hips speed up a bit, pushing back harder. Chibs slides in another finger and gets another moan. He thrusts them in and out of Tig, crooking them and hitting Tig's sweet spot every time. Tig lets out a strangled moan and drops his head between his arms, panting harshly.

Chibs pulls out his fingers, making Tig whimper in displeasure, momentarily forgetting that he's after something better when Chibs presses the head of his cock against Tig after he gets the condom on. He slides it up and down, teasing Tig with tiny thrusts against him, never pushing in.

Tig grunts and mumbles a curse. “Fuck me now!”

“If you insist.” Chibs grins and then snaps his hips forward, burying himself in Tig in one smooth thrust. 

Tig cries out, fists clenching in the sheets. Chibs wraps his hands around Tig's hips and waits for Tig to adjust to him. The tight heat around him makes him want to just thrust as hard and fast as he can and it takes all of his self control not to do so. He doesn't want to hurt Tig. He shakes with the effort of holding himself still and strokes the soft skin on Tig's hips to distract himself. Tig rocks back into him then, letting him know he can move now.

Chibs slides almost all the way out before slamming back into Tig. Tig groans loudly, rocking forward with the motion. He speeds up with his thrusts, fucking into Tig hard and deep. Tig is gripping the sheets so hard, his knuckles are white. His arms shake with the effort of holding himself up, tension lining his shoulders and back. 

Chibs presses himself against Tig's back, continuing to thrust into him. His mouth latches onto the back of Tig's neck, sucking and biting, muffling his moans. Tig can feel every inch of Chibs inside of him. He's stretched tight around him, every pull and drag of skin against skin making him shudder and pant, pleasure swimming through his veins. His cock pulses with need, aching for friction. 

“More, fuck.” Tig pants out.

Chibs smirks against his shoulder, trailing one hand down from Tig's hip, across his belly to wrap around his cock. He strokes once before stopping, making Tig whine. “That what you want?” 

“Fuck yes.” Tig grunts, moaning as Chibs gives a particularly hard thrust into him.

Chibs tightens his grip on Tig and strokes him again, smearing the precome down his shaft. He picks up the pace and, between Chibs' thrusts into him and the stroking hand on his cock, Tig is lost in a white haze of pleasure. All he can do is cling to the sheet and rock helplessly into Chibs. His orgasm is building up fast. He groans and thrusts back into Chibs one last time as Chibs' thumb rubs over the head of his cock and he's lost, coming hard. He shakes with the intensity of it, mouth open in a silent moan. Chibs groans as he feels the tight heat around him clamp down on his cock, Tig's orgasm pulling him into his own. 

Chibs leans against Tig's back for a moment before Tig is nudging him off of him, so he can turn over and lay down. Both shudder when Chibs pulls out of him, Tig whimpering at the loss. He collapses on the bed, thankful to be off of his arms and buries his face in his pillow for a moment before rolling over. Chibs ties off the condom and throws it away. 

He lays down next to Tig, who's lighting a cigarette now. Tig takes a drag and passes it to Chibs. Tig exhales the smoke, watching it swirl upwards to the ceiling. Chibs blows smoke rings to amuse himself and Tig smirks up at them. They relax in the silence, enjoying the afterglow and passing the cigarette back and forth between them. 

“Want to talk now?” Chibs asks, breathing out a lungful of smoke.

“I guess.” Tig sighs, taking the cigarette back from him and putting it out in the ashtray. He lights a joint this time.

“How does something like this even work?” Chibs asks, plucking the joint from Tig's fingers.

“Worked with Clay, Gemma, and me.” Tig shrugs, not looking at Chibs.

“That's not really an answer.” Chibs points out.

“I don't know. We'll figure out as we go.” Tig says, taking the joint back and putting it in the ashtray.

“Okay. I have to admit, I like the idea of being your Master.” Chibs smirks at Tig.

“Do you now?” Tig rolls over onto his side and props his head up on his hand, smirking down at Chibs.

“Yeah.” Chibs reaches up and pulls Tig into a kiss, slow and long.

Tig moves so he's laying on top of Chibs, never breaking the kiss. Neither are really up for another round right now, but Tig likes the skin to skin contact and settles against Chibs. Chibs' hands come around to rest on his back, running up and down the smooth skin. 

Tig presses kisses to Chibs' jaw, moving lower to nip at his neck gently, licking over the bites. Chibs drags his nails lightly over Tig's back, making him shiver. Tig moves his mouth back up to Chibs' and kisses him again, licking his way into Chibs' mouth. Chibs rolls them over so he's on top again, pinning Tig to the bed.

He pulls back and shifts so he's laying beside Tig instead. He wraps an arm around Tig, hand resting on his hip. Tig reaches over and puts the joint out and drags the comforter up around them, settling against Chibs. Sleep finds them quickly.

~*~

 

The next morning dawns bright and early, sunlight creeping in through the blinds on the window. Chibs shifts and finds himself tangled up with someone else. He groans and opens his eyes, blinking at Tig, who's curled up next to him. They're a mess of arms and legs, wrapped around the other, not an inch of space between them.

Tig mumbles something and rolls over, effectively freeing Chibs. He gets up and heads for the bathroom, taking care of business in there and coming back out. He leans against the bathroom door frame for a moment, watching Tig sleep. The blanket is shoved down around his hips, the sun warming the skin of his bare torso. 

Chibs feels a wave of lust crash over him as he continues looking at Tig. One hand wanders down almost absently and starts stroking his cock slowly. He thinks back to last night and how Tig had touched him, rough and frantic, lust fueling their actions. His hand speeds up and he moans softly. He takes his hand off his cock with some effort and crawls back into bed. After all, why jerk off when he has Tig all to himself now?

He pulls back the covers from Tig's body and brushes his fingertips over his nipples, making him moan quietly and shift on the bed again, still asleep. Chibs kisses him, coaxing a slight response from Tig before pulling away and mumbling in his ear. “Tigger, wake up.”

Tig mutters something incoherent and settles back down, not waking in the slightest. Chibs rolls his eyes and bites down on the hickey that was fading, but now will bruise over again. He can feel Tig's interest against his hip and rocks down into it, teasing him. Tig groans and opens his eyes, blinking up at Chibs groggily. 

“What?” He asks, slightly confused and still half-asleep.

“I'm trying to wake you up for morning sex here, but you gotta actually wake up for this to work, Tigger.” Chibs chuckles, ducking his head and nuzzling at the hollow of Tig's throat.

Tig hums quietly. “That's nice.”

“No, don't go back to sleep, Tig.” Chibs nips sharply at Tig's neck.

“Why not?” There's a definite whine in Tig's voice now.

“Morning sex. Let's have it.” Chibs rocks his hips down, grinding against Tig's hard cock to emphasis his point. 

Tig moans and grasps at Chibs' arms loosely. “Now?”

“Aye, now.” Chibs slides their cocks together again, making Tig moan, his fingers tightening on Chibs' shoulders.

“Hmmm, yeah, like that.” Tig hums, still somehow managing to be half-asleep despite Chibs doing his best to wake him up. He arches his hips up into Chibs' though and Chibs decides that this is better than no sex this morning, so he reaches down and wraps his hand around both of them and strokes them.

Tig is panting against Chibs' collarbone, arms looped around his neck as he sucks on Chibs' neck as Chibs strokes faster. Chibs props himself up with one arm, looking down at his hand, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he groans at the sight.

“Faster.” Tig gasps, thrusting his hips upward.

Chibs obliges him and soon, they're both gasping, panting against one another. Tig groans, fingernails digging into Chibs' back as he comes, the wet heat spilling down over their cocks pushes Chibs into his own orgasm.

Chibs sags down against Tig, trying to catch his breath. Tig moans quietly and closes his eyes. Chibs kisses him, tongue parting his lips to deepen it. He pulls back, sucking on Tig's bottom lip, making it nice and swollen for him to nip at. “You're not going back to sleep on me, are you?”

“Technically, you're on me.” Tig points out, eyes still closed.

“Point taken.” Chibs grins and settles down further on Tig, moving so he can rest his chin on Tig's chest.

Tig's arms rest along Chibs' shoulders, fingertips tracing random patterns as they doze contentedly for the morning. 

The ringing of Tig's cell phone makes them both jump and Tig curses, pushing Chibs off of him as he fumbles on the nightstand for the phone.

“What?” He snaps into it.

Chibs smirks at his reaction to whoever is on the other end and hopes, for Tig's sake, that it's not Clay. 

“He wants what now?” Tig frowns.

“Fine. Tell him I'll be there in an hour.” Tig snaps the phone shut and tosses it back on the nightstand with more force than is strictly necessary.

“What?” Chibs asks, sitting up against the headboard and lighting a cigarette that he snagged from the pocket of Tig's cut.

“Clay wants me to go get the guns out of the warehouse for Piney and Jax. Made a deal with some of Piney's old Marine buddies.” Tig sighs. 

“Why can't the Prospect do it?” Chibs asks, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“Fuck if I know.” Tig shrugs, stealing the cigarette from Chibs.

“Better get up then.” Chibs nudges him with his shoulder.

“Fuck.” Tig groans, but gets out of bed, keeping the cigarette. He glares down at the mess on his belly and heads into the bathroom to clean it off.

He digs through his closet and pulls out a shirt and jeans, tugging on his boxers and getting dressed. Chibs has lit another cigarette and watches him slide his cut on. “Want me to go with?”

“No, I got it.” Tig grumbles, picking up his wallet and cell phone from the nightstand. 

“When you gonna be back?” Chibs asks, blowing a smoke ring at him.

“I don't know. Depends on if Clay wants me at the sale.” Tig shrugs and heads for the door.

Chibs nods and waves him off. Tig smirks at him and shoots him the finger.

He pokes his head out the door, looking to see if anyone is there, but it seems none is, so he steps out into the hallway and heads for the main part of the clubhouse. There's a few croweaters passed out on various pieces of furniture, but everyone from the club is out for the day it seems. 

Tig walks out, stepping over some body parts and blinks in the bright sunlight. Jax and Piney are pulling up in the van just as he's getting on his bike.

“Hell you been?” Jax asks, jerking his chin at Tig.

“Busy.” Tig answers shortly.

“Coming with us to get the guns then?” Jax asks, ignoring the irritated look Tig flashes his way.

“Yeah.” Tig nods, strapping his helmet on.

“Alright, let's go, Piney.” Jax turns to the other man who nods.

They take off with a roar of engines and head to the outskirts of Charming. It doesn't take long to get the guns out of the warehouse and Tig isn't entirely sure why he's needed there at all since Jax and Piney are more than capable of handling it and don't even need him to go to the sale with them, but Tig doesn't waste his time asking questions he won't get answers to and heads back to the clubhouse while Piney and Jax head to meet Piney's buddies.

He makes it back just in time for Bobby and HalfSack to pull the pair of panties out of the toilet. “Who the fuck would try to flush panties?” 

“That's weird, man.” HalfSack snickers.

“Yeah, you think?” Bobby says, holding them up.

“Dude, nasty.” Tig wrinkles his nose and walks back out to the bar to get a drink before going out to the garage to start work for the day.

He's tinkering with an engine when Piney and Jax come back and Clay heads out to talk to Jax. He watches them for a moment, then goes back to the engine.

 

The truck with the rest of their guns pulls into the lot and Tig smirks. It's a day early. It's about time something went right around here. He's sure the Niners will be happy that the guns are already here. He watches HalfSack talk to Gemma in the office, the kid fidgeting as he waits for her to get something for him. He says something else, probably some sort of compliment and she smiles slightly at him, and he turns and walks away, the tips of his ears going pink.

His attention is called away when Juice pulls in with Unser's truck, a sweetbutt Tig vaguely recognizes from Nevada hopping out of the passenger side door. Clay heads over to Juice, anger practically radiating off of him and it clicks with Tig. That's the sweetbutt that Clay slept with to get back at the Prospect for the comment about Gemma and now said sweetbutt is standing in the yard of Teller-Morrow. 

“The hell is she doing here?” Clay demands, hand wrapped around the back of Juice's neck, pushing him down.

“She told me she was getting out in Bakersfield!” Juice protests, trying to squirm out from underneath Clay's hand.

The sweetbutt runs up to them and they pull apart to look at her. “It's not his fault, okay? I know I'm not be here, but just let me go talk to someone.”

“You talk to somebody in some other charter, you got that, sweetbutt?” Clay points a finger in her face.

Tig glances between them and the office window where Gemma is watching and he knows that she knows, or at least suspects, that Clay did something with this croweater on the run and now she's here, flaunting it in Gemma's face. Tig sighs. What happens on a run is stay on a run.

This is going to get real ugly real fast. Chibs steps out of the clubhouse and looks over the situation with the sweetbutt before rolling his eyes and heading over to Tig. “What's going on?”

“Sweetbutt from Indian Hills came back with Juice. The one Clay slept with to get even with the Prospect. This is not going to end well.” Tig grumbles.

“Aye, sweetbutt should know better. What happens on a run stays on a run.” Chibs frowns. 

“Well, apparently, she's got it bad for 'Sack, so that's why she's here.” Tig shakes his head.

“Oh, does she now?” Chibs grins, watching Juice drag the sweetbutt across the lot and the way HalfSack stared after her. 

“Yeah. Gemma is so not going to take this well at all.” Tig looks towards the office again just as HalfSack hurried out of it, casting a worried look back over his shoulder.

“You should go talk to her.” Chibs nudges Tig.

“Not my place.” Tig shrugs, though he does want to comfort Gemma and he kind of wants to punch Clay in the face for being an asshole, he shoves it all down. It's not his place, not anymore.

Chibs turns back to him and watches him carefully. Tig ignores him and goes back the engine he was working on before the drama started, but now he can't remember what the problem is and Chibs staring at him isn't really helping.

“What?” He snaps finally, throwing the screw driver down on the bench.

“Nothing.” Chibs raises his eyebrows at Tig.

“What the hell are you staring at me for?” Tig's irritated now. 

“Hey, calm down, Tig.” Chibs says firmly and something about his tone makes Tig stop and pause for a moment. 

“Yes Sir.” He looks down at the ground, a sign of submission, the first true sign he's given to Chibs and it surprises Chibs, but he takes it in stride. 

“Finish up here. We've got club shit to handle later.” Chibs gestures at the engine on the work bench and Tig nods, head still bowed.

Chibs gives him one last, measuring look before heading back into the clubhouse, smacking his Prospect on the back of the head and calling him an idiot on his way in. 

Tig knows that he surprised Chibs, but he couldn't help it. It was instinct to do that, be that openly submissive to him. He's never done that to Clay or Gemma before. Maybe he was right and Chibs is who he needs now. 

Only one way to find out, he thinks, getting back to work on the engine, this time determined to finish up quickly and handle whatever club shit needs to be done before he can get some alone time with Chibs.


End file.
